


The Fox in Lion's Clothing

by Lilith_Emrys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Order of the Phoenix AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith_Emrys/pseuds/Lilith_Emrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter gains his Creature inheritance, his life becomes even more interesting than usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This fic mostly follows the books until the end of the fourth, where it becomes AU  
> For my purposes, Harry turns seventeen before the beginning of his fifth year (so started Hogwarts at age 13).  
> Of course, Harry Potter belongs entirely to JK Rowling, I'm just playing with her characters and adding me own twists. While Kitsune are from Japanese mythology, my version greatly differs from the original.  
> This is my first fic, so constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated! Also, it is un-betaed, so if you spot any mistakes please let me know!

At midnight on the 31st of July Harry James Potter was woken by pain. This in itself was not surprising; since the rebirth of Voldamort in the graveyard his scar had been playing up, and he was lucky to last half the night before being woken by the  _cruciatus_ the Dark Lord so enjoyed inflicting on his followers, enemies and playthings alike. What was surprising, however, was the location of this pain. Unlike the whole body stimulation of the pain receptors caused by the Unforgivable, this was a stabbing pain at the base of Harry’s spine. It felt like someone had grabbed his tail bone with a pair of pliers and was pulling at it, as if trying to draw a wire. And from the way he could feel something brushing against the back of his thighs, they were succeeding.

After what felt like hours (but was probably only twenty minutes) the pain in his back stopped. He felt a tug on the top of his head and his nails, and a dull burning in his eyes and gums, then everything was still. Harry was just starting to relax, thinking it was over, when a wall in his brain began to crumble. Knowledge that he had always had, but up until this moment had been unaware of, flooded his mind. The newly seventeen-year-old blinked open slitted orange eyes and smiled.

**_ooooooooo_ **

Diagon Alley was bustling with the rush of excited students enjoying the last of their holidays, their parents frantically trying to keep track of the hyperactive children while collecting the books required for the coming school year. Harry sat at Fortescue’s eating an ice cream sundae and soaking up the atmosphere. He, Ron and Hermione had arrived the previous evening and had spent the morning purchasing books for their 5th year. Hermione and Ron, who had become a couple over the summer, had then sought some privacy, leaving Harry to happily wander the streets. As he lounged and aimlessly looked around, he noticed a drab shop that, like a house under _Fidelius_ , had apparently appeared out of nowhere. Entitled ‘Criatura’, the little shop was too plain to be anything but extraordinary.

Leaving his melting sundae, Harry made his way over to the little shop squished between Gringott’s and Madame Malkin’s. As he stepped through the door he was treated to the unpleasant sensation of a full-body shiver as he was assessed by suspiciously strong wards. Gaze assessing, Harry took in the scene before him. The shop appeared to predominantly contain books, but there were also odd items distributed seemingly randomly. The pace was almost empty of customers, with only a witch in one corner with a very prominent nose and nails long enough to be called talons and a wizard in with hair down to his knees and a smiling mouth showing off many needle-sharp teeth. Siting at a desk facing the door Harry had just entered was an extremely ordinary-looking wizard who, eyeing the teenager with suspicion, said “You don’t look like much; a half-blood Faun? They’re in the corner over there. Remember the rules, you can only access information about your own species.”

Instinctively recognising the insult in the supposition of a status as a weak half-blood Faun, Harry simply smirked and, after catching the man’s gaze, relaxed his grip on his magic, allowing his eyes to flash to orange. The wizard gaped and jumped out of his seat as if hit by a stinging hex. Bowing low, in a reverent tone he spoke again, “Sincere apologies my Lord, I was unaware one of your standing had graced society with your presence. Of course all information is available for your use, as always. Is there anything in particular I can help you with?”

Harry, ignoring the man as he knew was expected, moved purposefully through the shop to a raised platform in the centre of the back wall which was surrounded by a faintly glowing ward that kept out all but a select few. Passing though the light that welcomed him warmly, he moved towards the only bookshelf on the platform which contained only three books. Glancing at the titles, _Uses of Kitsune Products, The Guide to Being a Kitsune Mate_ and _Kitsune: A General Guide_ , he selected the latter and confidently made his way back to the vendor who was now standing awkwardly behind his desk. Noticing Harry’s approach the man again bowed low. In a tone of authority the teenager spoke to him for the first time. “Please anonymously send this tome to Madame Pince of the library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ensure she knows it is only to be loaned to one who specifically asks for books on this topic and is in possession of fur from a kitsune.”

Now staring at the teenager in awe, the older wizard wordlessly pulled out a quill and piece of parchment to record the instructions as Harry, smirking in satisfaction, strode out of the shop.

_**ooooooooo** _

The horn of the Hogwarts Express announcing its imminent arrival at Hogsmeade station pulled Harry out of his thoughts in time to hear Hermione say “I wonder who they’ve got for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?” Neville shrugged, as Ron remarked “As long as they’re not a Death Eater in disguise I don’t really care.” Harry’s comment of, “Someone less self-satisfied than Lockhart would be good”, caused Ron to go vaguely green in memory of the sickening narcissism, while Ginny snorted in answer. Luna, mystical as always, replied “I wouldn’t worry about that; the wrackspurts have been quite calm this year. The epsarns, on the other hand, have been disquietingly active.” Harry smiled; Luna always managed to hide her keen intelligence in a tangle of riddles while still saying her piece and presenting information to anyone who cared to listen properly.

As the train ground to a halt, Harry and his friends made their way out of the train and to the threstle-drawn carriages after their customary ‘hello’ to the ever-exuberant Hagrid. As his friends settled themselves in the carriage, the dark-haired teen paused at the threstle. He had always been able to see the creatures, due to witnessing his mother’s death, and always took the time to greet the skeletal creatures. However, this encounter felt different. As he looked into the animal’s eyes, he felt a foreign consciousness touch his own. It sent feelings of greeting, satisfaction (she was pregnant) and a request for a scratch behinds its ear; he complied and received gratitude in return. Smiling and both the feeling and the newly-discovered ability, he joined his friends in the carriage.

The bouncing of the vehicle was strangely soothing, and Harry let his mind drift, not thinking about anything in particular. He vaguely wondered how much of an issue Malfoy would be this year, if he would manage a better grade in potions due to his newly realised knowledge, how nervous the first years probably were. He was jolted out of his musings by the carriage pulling up to the main entrance steps of Hogwarts. 

Joining the stream of students the group made their way up the stairs, through the atrium area and into the Great Hall. Harry was hit, as he was every year, with the feeling of coming home. Looking up at the head table, he smiled at the picture of Dumbledore contemplating a lemon drop as he chatted with Flitwick. A small….pink woman was sitting to the Headmaster’s left; probably the new DADA teacher, though she did not look like a particularly good choice, though looks could be deceiving. As the teenager scanned the row of teachers, his eyes locked with the fathomless stare of Slytherin, Professor, spy and Potion Master Severus Snape. As their gazes held the area of Harry’s that had been woken on his seventeenth birthday perked up and took notice. Then it sent a simple, clear, life-changing message to his conscious mind. _Mate_. Harry’s smile widened. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun year.


	2. Sentient Plants and Foxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus receives his first gift and Harry chooses an animagus form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos!  
> So, here's the second chapter, a little later than I intended; hopefully it's worth the wait!

The beginning of the school year was not going well for one Severus Snape. This was for a multitude of reasons: his ‘holiday’ had been nothing of the sort, as the rebirth of the Dark Lord resulted in a great amount of pain and the brewing of endless revitalisation potions and poisons, the Headmaster had seemingly decided his life wasn’t stressful enough so had employed a Ministry minion to teach defence (though from the look of her textbooks, there was not going to be much actual teaching happening) and his students had not miraculously grown brains over the break. So it was unsurprising that the professor strode through the corridors with a slightly more deadly than usual snarl gracing his face as he made his way from the torture that was dinner to his rooms, ecstatic that, as it was Friday and he was not on duty, he would only have to have the bare minimum contact with the dunderheaded children for the next 48 hours, while also silently bemoaning the fact that it was only the end of the first week of term.

After entering his rooms and automatically checking his the status of his wards (they were intact), Severus progressed into his personal potions lab, quickly ensuring the three cauldrons under stasis were maturing correctly before adding a pinch of powdered wormwood and 4 king beetle wings to a fourth that was bubbling away merrily. Reducing the heat, he moved to his desk where he knew a pile of dismal essays from his 6th and 7th years waited for the attention of his universally-dreaded red quill. Resigned to a distasteful evening of horrendous handwriting, the Professor stopped short when he spotted a small, plain, black box marked with an _SS_ placed neatlyatop the dreaded stack of parchment. Hurriedly drawing his wand, Severus cast all manner of detection charms, both for simple eavesdropping and tracking spells, and more harmful curses and hexes, finding it clean of all wizard-cast magic. Cautiously he lifted the box from the desk and tentatively opened it, revealing a note penned in silver ink. 

_Early this morning the Hogwarts Whomping Willow relinquished these flowers for the use of one Severus Snape. She also asks that you be aware that she is very sorry for the terrible situation involving a werewolf in which she was involved, and solemnly promises to always use any means in her power to prevent any other such cases within her purview._

_Signed,_

_F_

Even though the letter had stated that flowers were enclosed, Severus still started in surprise when he lifted the note to find the red glowing blossoms of the carnivorous tree; extremely rare and valuable due to the fact that the blooms were extremely powerful for use in the production of healing potions, they were only produced when the sentient tree willed it, and could only be collected with the permission of the tree. This was made even more of an issue as only a few, rare creatures could communicate with the willow. Slowly lowering himself into his chair and frowning deeply the professor mentally catalogued these species, removing from the list those that could not actively speak with the tree (as obviously the writer of the note _had_ spoken with the plant, as only he, Dumbledore and the Marauders knew of “the incident”, as he liked to call it, and none of them still living would have spoken of it to anyone else) and those that never communicated with wizards. The list was very short, leaving only dryads, nymphs, kitsune, satyrs, fauns, elves, mapinguary, ogres and leshiye. He immediately discarded mapingari and nymphs, as the former never left the Amazon and the latter was isolated to their area of influence (there was no nymph for the Hogwarts area due to the age and strength of wards of the region). Ogres were discounted due to their fierce hatred of magic and extreme violence; there was no way one would have even contemplated entering the highly populated area. Kitsune, the most powerful known species, were usually scornful of the pettiness of magical folk. Elves and leshiye were generally reclusive, and did not like to involve themselves in the affairs of other species. That left dryads, satyrs and fauns. Assuming “F” at the end of the note denoted race rather than name, Severus reasoned, the individual who left the box must be a faun; this was plausible, as they were essentially witches and wizards with a few goat-like characteristics. It was still, however, rather strange that anyone, whoever they were, had taken notice of Severus. In his experience no one cared unless they could use him to achieve their own ends.

Shaking himself out of his rather morose musings, the dark-haired man took an empty vial from his inner pocket (as a Potion Master it was a necessity to consistently have a few at hand) and delicately deposited the precious florets inside before stoppering the tube, casting a stasis charm to ensure they stayed fresh, and carefully stowed it in the locked and warded draw of his desk that only he could access. Relegating his conclusions on the nature of his mysterious benefactor to a locked room in his occluded mind and grasping his quill, he began the laborious task of marking.

**_ooooooooo_ **

The beginning of the school year was going extremely well for one Harry Potter. Sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast on the second Monday of the term, he began absentmindedly cataloguing why this was so. He was back with his friends in the place he considered home, he had access to a large amount of wonderful tasting food (he had noticed that the meagre meals he was infrequently given when in the care of his relatives, which had only just been able to sustain him before he came into his inheritance, were now totally inadequate; his metabolism had greatly increased after his transition), he could now see (and wasn’t that surprising; until he had woken from his transition with his eyes miraculously fixed he had not even known that his blurred, inaccurate vision he dealt with, even with his glasses, was abnormal), which resulted in a great increase in his skills in potions (he could now read the instructions and identify ingredients; both extremely useful in the production of a working brew), he was gradually letting his visible skills in all his subjects increase; up until this year he had made sure to be as mediocre as possible in almost everything he did to ensure he stayed out of the limelight as much as possible. His kitsune knowledge suggested this was an instinctual way to ensure he lived to grow into his inheritance by remaining unnoticed, though this had of course never worked for the Boy-Who-Lived. But the factor that made his life extremely good, rather than just good, was the satisfying reception of his first courting gift by his mate; the whomping willow flowers which Harry had acquired as payment for the healing of a broken limb had gone down a treat. Though Severus did not know who the gift-bringer was, or indeed that he was being courted at all, he had been suitably impressed by the gift and the creature nature it implied. Harry smirked to himself as he remember his sign off “F”; he had decided that his mate assuming he was a faun (for now) was extremely amusing, and would make his next gift of basilisk venom, (which could never have been collected, or even handled, by a faun) even more satisfying than the first. It was a matter of great pride for a kitsune to keep their mate confused throughout their courtship, as one would not outright lie to their intended, but could (and would) let their mate assume things that were incorrect. Yes, signing off “F” for Fox had been an exceptional idea.

Turning back to his breakfast Harry joined the jokingly heated conversation between Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus about the merits of pumpkin juice vs milk, still slightly grinning.

After a hugely enjoyable, laughing conversation, the group joined the mass exodus of students from the Great Hall to their first class of the week which was, for the 5th year Gryffindors, Transfiguration. After sliding into his customary seat beside Ron he took out his textbook and turned to page 152 as directed by Professor McGonagall. Reading the chapter title, _“Animagi”_ , he skimmed the chapter quickly before partially tuning out the Professor’s lecture on the basic hows, whys and whens of animagi; this was not a lesson that applied to kitsune, as the physique of the individuals of the species was fluid, so any animal guise was as easy as their human one, though their primary body was a ‘half form’, a human body with fox ears, tails and claws on both feet and hands. 

The teenager turned his attention back to his head of house fully when he heard her say, “The incantation for this initial transformation is written on the board. While all of you must speak the words, only a tiny number of you will change. Those of you who do not will have a similar spell performed on you where I force the metamorphosis. With this knowledge of your form you can then make an informed decision on whether or not you would like to achieve the change yourself.”

Harry’s mind quickly analysed the two possibilities: he could change, so choosing any animal he desired, or he could let the Professor force the change, which would likely result in no change, alerting his teacher to his creature status. The former, he decided, was the only sensible option. Aware that he may have to change into his ‘animagus’ body in times of stress, he concluded that it was logical to have said guise be one he would easily remember and naturally revert to. Decision made, he, along with his classmates, chanted “ _veneficus animali_!” With intense concentration the kitsune made his change as animagus-like as possible; slower and more painful looking than the fluid changes he could make as a kitsune. Within 20 seconds he sat with his rusty-red coat shivering slightly, mouth open, showing a hint of fang, and expelling air in heavy pants. Calming, he sat up straighter, curling his white-tipped tail around his black feet, briefly mourning the fact he couldn’t show his true form with its greater number of tails, before looking around the room with his slitted amber eyes. Only two others had made the change, Hermione into a cute-looking raccoon, and Malfoy into a regal albino peregrine falcon with black flecked wings. Turning to look up into the astonished eyes of Ronald Weasley, he stretched his canine mouth into a wide grin as Ron said, “Bloody hell mate, you’re a bloody trickster fox!”

**_ooooooooo_ **

The rest of the lesson was uneventful, with the rest of the class congratulating the three on their change and lining up to have their own forms revealed by McGonagall; Ron, the only one who decided to develop his change, was an Irish terrier. The transition back into his human form was as easy for Harry as the change itself, but seemed to be much harder for the others. Hence, it was a subdued class that left the transfiguration classroom and headed towards the library for their free period. Harry, pleading a headache and promising to meet the others for lunch, headed down the corridors into the dungeon. He knew that Severus had office hours, hence would be out of his private rooms for at least another hour. Taking out the small box and checking inside to ensure the vial of basilisk venom was safe, he again brought to mind the reasons for this gift. Yes, it would confuse his mate, always a plus, but the main reason was the uses of this particular ingredient. While it was an extremely strong poison, it could also be utilised as the main component of an all-purpose antidote and antivenin. Something invaluable for a spy, especially one with a master who spoke parseltongue and had an unhealthy obsession with an Albanian snake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the animagus forms:  
> Harry: http://livingwithfoxes.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/4/6/21469346/1372448634.jpg  
> Hermione: http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSz6ASiFRyDn1MTJ62Ro455C4As6d7q0r2H5QeqkaByI_4Y0Dd5jg  
> Malfoy: http://www.adverts.pk/adpics/4cb3113203fbc50aaf9757b23.jpg  
> Ron: http://animalia-life.com/data_images/irish-terrier/irish-terrier4.jpg


	3. A Long Awaited Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second gift, a detention and a long-awaited confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have added a tag of mentions of child abuse, as it is mentioned in this chapter, and will be mentioned in some of the subsequent chapters.  
> Sorry for how late this chapter is. Unfortunately, due to my life at the moment the posting for the near future will be equally sporadic. Sorry!

Upon entering his rooms Severus Snape poured himself two fingers of cognac and sank into his high-backed armchair with a relieved sigh. Taking a sip of Courvoisier’s Impérial, one of his few vices, he savoured the flavour as it burned down his throat. The man grimaced in distaste as his thoughts turned to the reason he required the brandy today, namely the tragedy that was his 4th years; after three years of potions he would have hoped that they were above sabotage, if not due to their maturity then at least because of a sense of self-preservation, but, evidently, when Slytherins and Gryffindors were put in the same room both characteristics disappeared. While Severus understood the Headmaster’s desire to inspire inter-house unity, his way of going about it was not only unsuccessful, it was downright dangerous. This was made obvious by the 5 non-accidental exploding cauldrons out of the 10 in use in his last class, which had resulted in the entire class requiring a trip to the hospital wing and a repeat of the lesson.

Placing his tumbler on the table next to his chair the Professor stood to retrieve his lesson plan in order to update the document and stopped in his tracks. There, on the desk, was another _SS_ marked black box, placed on his essays, the same as the previous gift had been. Quickly casting the necessary precautionary charms as he had before, he again found the offering clean, so cautiously opened it. There he found another note.

_Harvested yesterday from the properly preserved carcase of Slytherin’s monster._

_F_

Beneath the note was a vial containing a dark red liquid, which, when examined, he ascertained was indeed venom from a Basilisk. Extremely rare due to both the dangerous nature of the snake and the fact not many were daft enough to spawn the creature. The age of the reptile and the preservation of the venom inside the body for a long period of time both increased the strength of the poison, and as the beast had been over a thousand years old, and was preserved for two more, resulting in the production of the strongest venom in recorded wizarding history.

Severus was astounded. This was a truly astonishing gift. The note, though short, and the nature of the gift also told him many things about his gift giver; for one, they were not a faun as he had expected – that species had a crippling inability to handle any substance that could be used as a poison. It was more likely that his mysterious benefactor was a dryad, probably of a partially parasitic tree, or at least one which tried to clear the competition through claiming all the nutrients in the area or poisoning the ground. The “F” possibly denoted the species of tree from which the dryad had sprung. Another piece of information the note revealed was the knowledge and access the creature had; not many knew of the location and contents of Slytherin’s Chamber, and even fewer could access the area. Also, they were either supporters of the Dark and wanted to help him poison someone, or they knew he was a spy for the Light, and either wanted him to kill a Death Eater or wanted to help him remain alive; the venom could easily kill someone, or, with proper preparation, save them from the strongest of poisons.

Still puzzling over the riddle the gifts posed, Severus absently cast a _tempus_ , revealing dinner was only five minutes away. Quickly placing the vial with the other gift in his warded draw the Professor hastened towards the great hall. Striding along the corridors with his robes billowing, the raven-haired man almost walked into a student who had their head buried in a book and was meandering along. Saving himself from the collision only by a quick side-step, he must have made some involuntary sound as the book lowered, revealing the characteristic glasses and lightning-bolt scar of the insufferable brat Potter.

Barking out an instinctual “Detention, Mr Potter, 8 o’clock”, Severus’ mind was drawn to a topic he seemed to be spending a great deal of time on: the change in behaviour of the teen since he had returned to Hogwarts as a legal adult. The boy had seemed to apply himself more readily to his studies, even managing to prevent the explosion of any cauldrons this year (though he did not hold out hope for the rest of term), and while he was still brazenly arrogant, he had seemed to refrain from his usual amount of rule-breaking, spending more time in the library and less with his impudent friends; Draco had not even invaded his office complaining about the Gryffindor once so far, a first since they began at the school. Reaching the head table, the teacher banished the topic from his mind, after concluding that, though the brat had gained a modicum of sense, he was unlikely to be any more bearable, so the up-coming detention was going to be the same as any he had been forced to before; full of scowls, insolent comments and sullen silences.

_**ooooooooo** _

Harry shivered as he entered the castle, casting a silent drying charm to dispel the dampness caused by his dip in the lake, pocketing his third carefully selected and collected gift. Casting a quick _tempus_ , he found he had entered at just the right time; any later and he would have had to run to the dungeons.

Harry straightened his uniform as he approached the potions classroom, quickly ensuring he was ready for the detention and the confrontation he would initialise; he had been planning for this encounter for a while, and was pleased that he hadn’t had to resort to destroying a potion to secure himself this detention, only having to do something as innocuous as get in the way of his prickly potions professor.

Reaching the door he only paused for a second before knocking, hoping his careful planning would pay off.

_**ooooooooo** _

Hearing the knock that announced the arrival of The Brat, Severus took a moment to gather himself for what was likely to be a long and confrontational detention before giving Potter permission to enter. Not even giving the teenager time to fully cross the threshold, he said “All these cauldrons used today must be cleaned, dried and put away. All without magic, of course.” He was therefore surprised by the respectful “Yes Sir” he received in reply.

They settled into their work quietly, only the scratch of a red-inked quill and the splash of the water permeating the silence. As the time went on, Severus began to observe the teen, noticing the surety and speed with which Potter washed the cauldrons, at quadruple the rate he had seen in any other dunderhead work.

Finishing the last cauldron, Harry stored it with the rest. Noticing this action, Severus remarked “A little hard work teach you a shred of humility, Mr Potter?”

Potter again surprised him with his answer. “If it didn’t work for the last 17 years, I doubt it a little more will make a difference now.”

The Professor stared at him for a second before replying, “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about? You, the “Golden Boy” have never worked a day in your life.”

The politeness, depth and sincerity of the rejoinder was unexpected. “The Dursleys are firm believers in earning your keep if you do not deserve it, and, since I was never deserving, I always had to work. They also don’t particularly hold with feeding those who are unworthy. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful they took me in; I know what happens to those wizards unlucky enough to end up in the System – they get labelled “problems”, passed from family to family until they end up with one that will try to beat the magic out of you. Colin Creevey was one; he ended up at my primary school and I noticed his predicament. Using some ‘accidental magic’ I managed to break his arm, sending him to hospital where they noticed the bruises. He was sent to a new home, which just happened to be the Creeveys, who already had one muggleborn child, Dennis. For all their faults, my aunt and uncle never laid a hand on me.” Here Potter paused for a second, staring off into space. He shook himself out of his memory, looking back at his Professor. “I’m sorry sir; that was probably more than you wanted to know. I’ll just get out of your hair now.”

The teenager silently walked out of the classroom, leaving a dumbfounded Severus in his wake.


End file.
